


The Red Lady

by TheAsexualScorpio



Series: ASOIAF Ficlets [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Ghosts, Kinda, Possession, Psychic Jojen, Sansa is a ghost, in a painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 03:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualScorpio/pseuds/TheAsexualScorpio
Summary: Jon and Arya stood on the stoop and watched as the septon who’d run screaming from Jon’s house grew smaller and smaller in the distance. When he disappeared around a corner at the end of the street, Arya turned to Jon and gave him a tentative smile. “Bran knows a guy, Jojen Reed. Maybe we can call him? If you want.”~~~After unusual occurrences in Jon's house take a turn for the frightening, Arya calls one of Bran's friends for insight.





	The Red Lady

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored at work, so I made myself a list of prompts, and here is the first one:  
> Possession

Jon and Arya stood on the stoop and watched as the septon who’d run screaming from Jon’s house grew smaller and smaller in the distance. When he disappeared around a corner at the end of the street, Arya turned to Jon and gave him a tentative smile. “Bran knows a guy, Jojen Reed. Maybe we can call him? If you want.”

What Jon wanted was to be left alone. He was sick of people bursting into his house like they had the right. He was even getting sick of Arya, and a wave of guilt crashed over him even as he thought it. He turned to look at his sister and saw the dark circles under her eyes, her hesitation, the sling on her arm. Arya had never been hesitant, fearful like she was now, and it was his fault. _It wouldn’t have happened if she’d minded her own business_ , a dark part of him whispered. Jon grunted and went back to watching the street. After a moment, he managed to say: “Go ahead and call him.”

An expressionless man showed up at his door a week later. He looked young, somewhere between Jon’s age and Arya’s, but his eyes were far too old for his face. They were too knowing and world-weary to belong to someone who wasn’t at least a hundred years old. Their dark green gaze seemed to flay Jon open, and he simultaneously wanted to shrink away and shove this man off his stoop. He remembered the crack Arya’s arm made when it was pulled out of its socket and wondered if this man’s head would sound the same against the pavement. The man cocked his head at Jon, like he knew what he was thinking, and the urge to hurt him, make him _bleed_ , grew stronger.

“Jon, this is Bran’s friend, Jojen. He’s an authority on…spiritual stuff.” Arya gave Jojen a rueful smile, but he didn’t seem offended. Instead he straightened, trying to peer over Jon’s shoulder into the house. Jon leaned to one side to block him before he could think better of it.

Jojen leveled another one of those soul-piercing looks at him. “May I come in?”

Jon wanted to say no, but Arya’s hopeful gaze stopped him. Instead, he turned and walked into the house without a word. A moment later, he heard steps behind him and the door closing. When he reached the end of the foyer, he turned back around in time to see Jojen walk into the kitchen. Jon quickly joined Arya in peering into the kitchen. Jojen made a circuit around the room, looking around like there was something far more interesting on the walls than paint. When he completed his lap around the room, he passed them and crossed the hall into the living room/dining area. Again, he made a slow lap around the room, occasionally stopping to cock his head at this or that, and when he was finished, he rejoined Jon and Arya in the hallway.

“There is a presence here, though she doesn’t spend as much time down here as she must up there,” Jojen said, looking toward the stairwell.

“She?” Arya asked.

“The spirit is definitely a woman, one who suffered a great deal.” With that ominous statement, Jojen started toward the stairs. Before he knew what was happening, Jon was in front of him, blocking the way. Jojen raised his eyebrows at Jon. “I need to go up there.”

Though something was screaming in him to stay put, Jon forced himself to move out of Jojen’s way. The younger man nodded in thanks and started up the steps. Shooting a furtive look at Jon, Arya followed. After a moment, Jon went up the stairs as well. When he reached the top, he saw that Jojen had zeroed in on a painting at the end of the hall. Jon wanted to drag him back, but before he could, Jojen reached the painting and stopped, cocking his head. Arya and Jon came up behind him.

“Another one of Bran’s weird friends had an art show a couple of months ago,” Jon explained. “I ended up buying this painting.”

He didn’t mention the dealer’s claim that it had been painted with blood. He didn’t much care to think about that, and he was certain it was just something the artist made up to seem more edgy anyway. All that really mattered was how the painting had enthralled him at the time, still enthralled him if he was being truthful. It was an old portrait of a beautiful noblewoman. She wore a pink gown flecked with red, with her thick copper hair tumbling loose down one shoulder. Her face was flushed pink, and her dark blue eyes seemed to pin the viewer in place. Jon had never been able to tell if the woman was meant to be enraged or aroused, but the painting was appealing either way. The woman looked like she could leap off the canvas at any moment.

“This painting is the focal point of all the negative energy in this house,” Jojen said decisively. Jon glared at him, but Jojen ignored it. He glanced at Arya and then Jon. “Have either of you had dreams or visions of this woman?”

Jon had, ever since he bought the painting, and he reluctantly admitted it. Arya stared at him with wide eyes, and Jojen looked grave.

“You’re seriously saying the _painting_ is haunted?” Jon scoffed.

“I’d buy that,” Arya said. “It’s always creeped me out. Plus, I don’t think you had this problem before you got it.” She turned to Jojen. “So, what do we do? Burn it?”

Jon rounded on Arya, but before he could protest, Jojen spoke.

“It’s too late for that.”

They both turned back to Jojen.

“What?” Jon asked.

Jojen turned away from the painting and faced them. “The spirit has already attached herself to Jon. Destroying the painting will only make the hold she has on him stronger, because he’ll be all she has left.”

An icy tendril of fear twisted in Jon’s gut. “Am I possessed?”

“Not yet.”

 


End file.
